Colombian journalists: between threats, exile

To be a journalist in Colombia, in a city
like Medellín, is not easy -- even less so if you cover issues related to
narcotrafficking.

Despite efforts by the authorities to
control outbreaks of violence linked to drug trafficking, especially in the
city's poorest neighborhoods, the situation isn't improving. According to the prosecutor's
office, Medellín has the highest homicide rate in the country and one of the
worst in Latin America.

The origin of the violence - which includes
fighting in the streets with long-range weapons, --and has left hundreds dead --
is that there is currently no one kingpin who dominates the territory. Since
the 2008 extradition to the United States of Diego Fernando Murillo, alias "Don
Berna" -- a former paramilitary member and narcotrafficker who led the criminal
organization known as the "Office of Envigado" -- many have wanted to take his
place, sparking a war between factions.

Of course, controlling a city like Medellín
requires not only having power in the underworld, but also in the important
spheres of society. Thus these characters have politicians, businessmen and
members of the security forces, especially the police, on their "payroll."

Reporting on the daily events that are
products of this war, such as fighting or deaths, does not bring so many
problems. But something else happens when journalists dare to delve into the
causes and consequences of these events. The first thing that happens is lack
of cooperation on the part of some local authorities, who are worried about
keeping up an image that is very far from reality. Reporting on these events in
detail is bothersome to them, and you become persona non grata.

The other, more delicate problem is when
the "warlords" feel themselves affected, and that is when the messages, warning
phone calls, threats, and even attacks, begin.

On June
11, 2011, I saw my life and everything that I had constructed until that
moment fall apart. That was the day my article about alliances between drug
traffickers was published. I titled it "¿Un
nuevo capo en Medellín?" ("New chief in Medellín?"), and from that moment
on I began receiving calls from my sources who warned me that I was in danger.

On May 18, I had published another article,
"Y
ahora las polibandas," ("And now the 'polibandas'") in which I revealed links
between drug traffickers and some members of the police, a connection known as
"polibandas." A month later, on June 19, it was revealed that three policemen
had been fired and that an investigation was underway involving another 120. The
people that had given me information warned me that there was discord due to
the article and its consequences.

On June 22, a close source received a phone
call that had a message for me: "Tell your friend the journalist Mary Luz to
stop publishing stupid things, or does she want to win the jackpot?" They were
no longer only warnings, they had transformed into threats. The authorities'
investigations showed that the author of these threats was the drug trafficker
known as "Mi Sangre" ("My Blood" ), of whom I had written in the article "A new
chief in Medellín?" He also asked the newspaper to publish a correction, and
when management refused, he said he would sue.

The newspaper received various phone calls
from people trying to find out my whereabouts, the warnings continued, and the recommendation
was to leave the country, even though I had been granted a full-time police
escort. According to the Medellín police chief, anyone could take advantage of
the situation to hurt me, as the articles I had written in past year had caused
discomfort in many sectors.

On August 10, I heeded the recommendation and
with the help of various international press freedom organizations, among them
CPJ, I left the country. How long will I be gone? I don't know. Where will I go? I don't know that either -- just
as I don't know what will happen from here on out with my professional life,
nor what to say of the family that stayed in Medellín and the loneliness that
is my only companion.

The only things that are always with me are
uncertainty - and the conviction that I did the right thing. If it was worth it
or not is another question, but I have no doubt that I would do it again
because it is my job. I am a journalist and people have a right to know what is
happening.Reporting on drug
traffickers, guerrillas and paramilitaries has been 14 years of my professional
life. Of course there have been other threats, and even a week-long kidnapping
in the hands of the FARC, but in those days you know who to talk to. That is no
longer the case, and the people who are pursuing me have nothing to lose. That
is why now it is different and although some think this is cowardice, if they
kill me I cannot continue to be a journalist. At least for now I have the hope
that someday I will be one again.

Comments

To me you are a true hero! The world needs more people like you. People whoe care. People who want to make the world a better place.
I wish you all the best and I hope that you continue to make a difference, but please not at the cost of your life. You are have to keep a little for yourself as well.